Zoo(dys)topia: Reaction
by Albaphet
Summary: A sequel to Zoo(dys)topia. The city has been saved, the villain locked away and Judy and Nick quite successfully shipped. So what remains? Plenty it turns out...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Foreword:**

This is a sequel to a story that I wrote a few months back called Zoo(dys)topia. It took place in the dystopian shock collar AU that Disney contemplated before giving us the Zootopia that we all know and love today. Basically it was my vision of how the story of that movie might have turned out had Disney stuck with the original concept.

I got a lot of people asking me for a sequel once it was finished, and as of right now I am bowing to public pressure and giving the people what they want. The show will go on.

But before you dive in I would highly recommend reading the first part, which can be found on my author's profile, so that you know exactly what's going on in this story. Otherwise it'll be a bunch of vaguely familiar gobbledygook.

Anyway, please enjoy:

...

Nick was ten years old and in school again. Learning about volcanos. His science teacher, a stern young rabbit straight out of academy, was discussing the role of pressure in an eruption.

Nick sat still, arms folded atop his desk, muzzle laid over them, a portrait of all consuming boredom.

What made it worse was that it was nice outside, the sky clear but for a few cotton ball puffs of cloud that rolled languidly across a faded blue sky. Nick's desk was next to a window, which made daydreaming not just likely but virtually mandated.

"Wilde," the teacher said, noticing a student of his drowsing in the mid summer heat, "perhaps you'd like to tell us what happens when all of that pressure stored within the volcano encounters a blockage."

Nick sat bolt upright, blinking, slightly embarrassed to have been caught so blatantly daydreaming.

"Uh…boom?" He asked. The class tittered.

"Eventually," the teacher allowed, "but not at first. An eruption is not instantaneous. It takes time for enough pressure to be built up to dislodge the blockage and trigger an explosion. Imagine that you have a bike and you're pumping up the tires. If you put a couple dozen pumps in them the tires will be nice and full, the rubber will stretch around the compressed air trapped inside. The more you pump the further the rubber of the tires will stretch until…? Wilde?"

"Boom." Nick said again.

"Exactly. Eventually the blockage will give way and you'll get your eruption. This is also a decent showcase of something you guys will learn later: the third law of motion. For each action there is an equal and opposite _reaction._ For each pump of air you put into the tire the rubber will stretch further. For each collar you remove you'll disillusion the prey just a little bit more."

Nick blinked. Felt his heart constrict unpleasantly in his chest, iron bands of fear suddenly squeezing him. He looked up to where his teacher was standing, hands folded amiably behind his back.

"It's a law of motion Nicky," his teacher said in Hubble's voice, and it was only then that Nick noticed that the rabbit before him had only one ear, "there are no exceptions."

Nick awoke with a strangled cry, fur damp with sweat and Hopps gripping onto his shoulder, her eyes wide with concern.

"Nick," she was saying, "you're safe Nick. You're safe…"

It took Nick a moment to get himself back under control, his heart thudding in his chest, fur spiky with terror. When he did he laid back and stared up at the ceiling, shivering, fading fear and burgeoning shame flooding his mind in equal amounts.

"Sorry." He said. Hopps said nothing for a while.

"This is the third night in a row." She said, "Nick…this isn't normal."

"I…I know," he sighed, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Hopps said, snuggling closer to him, gently disentangling the sheets that he had kicked away, "there's nothing for you to apologize about. It's just…I'm worried about you."

Nick looked over to the placid digital face of the alarm clock. Four in the morning. That was usually about when it happened. He sighed to himself, trying to get the last remaining shreds of terror and dread to leave his mind. To stop constricting his chest like some murderous tropical snake.

"Don't be," he said, "I'm fine. It was just a nightmare. That's all."

Hopps sighed. Seemed exasperated.

"Was it about Hubble?" She asked.

Nick said nothing. Could tell that Hopps already knew the answer to her question.

"What did he say to you when you visited him?"

Nick, despite himself, couldn't help but smile very slightly.

"You're using your policewoman voice," he said, "like when you're interrogating a suspect."

"Nick."

"I plead the Fifth copper," Nick growled facetiously, mimicking a gruff career criminal, "you aint getting nothing outta me!"

"Nick!" Hopps' voice was sharper now, and Nick dropped the act, looking over to the rabbit curled up next to him.

"Hubble didn't say anything," Nick lied, "just some threats and bluster. That's it." He didn't think that he sounded even halfway convincing.

"You keep saying that," Hopps said, "but then every night it's these nightmares. Nick, it _scares_ me when you wake up screaming, when you're thrashing around in bed with your fur standing on end and your teeth bared. It scares the dickens out of me. And I cant do anything to help you if you don't let me in…if you don't tell me the truth."

Nick blinked. Felt something deep inside of him twinge painfully, guilt dripping from whatever had broken. What was he doing?

But even then, at the same time something within him demanded that he keep Hubble's words under wraps. He didn't want Hopps to be exposed to the _poison_ that Hubble seemed to breathe into every interaction he fielded. Hopps didn't deserve that.

"I'm fine Judy." Nick said at last, and kissed Hopps between the ears.

Hopps said nothing.

Nick did not get back to sleep for a very long time.

...

Later that morning, after a joyless shower and a tense breakfast, Hopps left for the station and Nick loitered in the apartment for a bit, unsure of what to do.

He had only just recently finished fighting all of the legal battles that the previous year's events had landed him in, and the enormous, yawning gap in his schedule was readily apparent.

If it had been two months ago Nick might have caught a taxi to the center of the city to meet with his legal council. Or speak with some squirmy ZNN representative or ZPD higher up. If it had been a few months further back then he might have done that while wearing handcuffs and hearing worrying talk of having his collar put back on.

But now…

Now he had won all of those cases. The mayor's office had acquitted him of the long list of crimes he'd racked up over the course of his exodus, Holt's deputy opting to minimize the horrible news so that perhaps the next elections wouldn't be too damaging. ZNN had caved in the face of overwhelming legal pressure and awarded Nick and hundreds of other unfairly maligned predators damages, Hubble had gone to prison for life, Koslov had not murdered everyone's families, Finnick and Honey had escaped the whole thing unscathed…

On paper it had been a smashing and total victory.

So why didn't he feel happier about it?

"Maybe it's too soon," he told the empty apartment with a listless shrug, "maybe it'll finally sink in today."

But even as he said that Nick knew that his words weren't true. His collar was off, his friends were safe, him and Hopps were…

Nick sighed and folded his arms atop the kitchen island, where he was sitting, staring at the polished chrome surface of the fridge, laying his muzzle atop them. Just like he'd done in his dream.

He was surrounded by evidences of his success. He'd won last time. The city had been saved, his friends had been saved. _He_ had been saved. Yet it all seemed so one dimensional and frail and tawdry.

Nick shook his head, ran his paws through the fur on his neck and stood up.

"Go for a walk," he told himself, "get out and do something. You're going stir crazy in here."

So he did just that.

He locked the apartment behind him, stepped out onto the curb and took a deep breath of early morning air. The city was still drowsing along, not quite in full gear just yet. Nick looked around him, at the pedestrian speckled sidewalks, at the half empty streets. The buildings traced in the orange of an approaching sunrise.

At…

The fur on the back of his neck stood up and for a moment he was paralyzed. Then the sleek black car hummed to a stop directly in front of him and the rear passenger door popped open. Nick couldn't help but take a very small step back.

The mammal in the car didn't seem to notice his apprehension.

"Long time no see Nicky," Koslov said from his place on a comfortable faux leather seat, "come, we have things to catch up on."

Nick stared.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, glancing around him. But nobody seemed to be taking any notice that Zootopia's most wanted had just surfaced in the middle of a quiet little neighborhood.

Koslov smiled. He looked a little older than when Nick had last seen him, there was more gray around his whiskers, he had gained weight. Yet the bear still looked just as solid and imposing as ever.

"I come to you after a year's absence and this is how you speak to me," the bear shook his head ruefully, "I can promise that this is nothing to do with crime or mayhem. Now get in Nicky, the car is idling, my driver is growing listless."

Nick thought about politely declining. About turning sharply on his heels and walking back into his apartment. Koslov was alone in the back of the car, Nick could see that, there were no goons waiting to snatch him up if he tried to run.

But Nick stayed where he was, and after a long moment he, God have mercy on him, clambered up into the bear's car.

Koslov snapped the door shut and immediately the car hummed back into traffic, the driver handling his vehicle with care and grace.

"So…you were waiting for me," Nick said, feeling a little prickle of unhappy dread as he said that, "what's so important?" He tried not to imagine Koslov parked just down the street, watching Hopps as she left for work. The thought of that put chills down his spine.

"You visited Hubble just a few days ago," the bear shifted his massive weight, eyes acquiring an interested gleam that Nick didn't like very much, "I never got the chance to thank you for revealing his treachery by the way. That was very good of you Nicky. Very good."

Nick nodded uneasily.

"Sure…" He said.

"I have not sent anyone to speak with Hubble," Koslov continued, "I did not figure that there was anything new that he could have told me that wasn't already in the trial transcripts and police documentation. But then you go and pay him a visit and suddenly I'm curious. What did he say to you? Is he at peace with his imprisonment? Angry? Bitter? Is he threatening you Nicky?"

Nick wondered dully how Koslov could have known that he had gone to visit Hubble, then decided that he didn't want to know. The bear had eyes all over the city, especially on people that he knew.

"Just empty threats and bluster," Nick said, his words quite similar to what he had told Hopps not too long before, "nothing very interesting."

"So he is unhappy then," Koslov said with some satisfaction, "the cold concrete walls have finally broken that veneer of calm he wore. Good. I'm glad to hear it Nicky." Koslov did seem glad, almost disturbingly so.

"Yeah." Nick said, glancing out the window. He couldn't see much of the view, just the tops of buildings whooshing past. Even then he could tell that Koslov was ferrying him deeper into Down Town.

"Don't be skittish Nicky," the bear laughed, noting his passenger's unease, "we are going to pick something up. I'm not planning on dumping you into my ice machine or drowning you in the river. That would be a bad way to repay you for getting rid of an enemy of mine."

Nick stared at the bear, unease curdling into genuine fright.

"Wait. Picking something up? Define 'something.'"

The bear gave Nick an amused look.

"You look stricken Nicky," Koslov teased, "whatever happened to the fox who did my errands for me last year?"

"An awful lot," Nick couldn't help but squirm in his seat, supremely uncomfortable, "I can't get involved in this again Koslov. I'm legit now. I'm dating a cop for Christ's sake!"

"So you are," the bear sighed, a deep rumble that seemed to come straight from his chest, "but don't worry Nicky, I just want to show you something. You wouldn't be a good associate anymore anyway...too visible these days."

Nick breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Koslov's gaze remained steady. The car hit a pothole. Nick couldn't help but flinch.

"You look tired Nicky," Koslov observed, "know that you're welcome at the Winter Palace anytime...the saunas there are really something special." The bear's tone was still soft and cordial. Somehow that only deepened Nick's unease.

"Why're you being so buddy-buddy all of a sudden?" Nick asked, before he could stop himself, "a year goes by without a peep from you, then suddenly you pick me up out of the blue and...and it's like the last time I saw you you weren't threatening to murder my friends and family."

Koslov was silent for a disquieting moment, eyes gone cold and flat. He clearly had not appreciated Nick's question.

"Are you still holding onto that?" The bear asked with a raised eyebrow, "is the little bunny?"

Nick said nothing.

"That was business Nicky," Koslov said lightly, "nothing more. I'd already left my anger at you behind. And when you revealed Hubble's treason and Mayor Holt's insanity in such spectacular fashion...well...that raised my opinion of you quite a bit."

Nick couldn't help but think that Koslov had gotten his descriptors of Hubble and Holt backwards, but said nothing.

"Try to trust me Nicky," Koslov continued, "the days when we were at each other's throats...those are in the past."

When the car stopped it was in the industrial deadlands around the canals. Nick couldn't help but stare down at the tawny coffee brown water as Koslov's car came to a halt.

Had it really been a year since he'd floated through there, Hopps in tow, fleeing from the entire city?

Certainly didn't feel like it.

"This is one of our transit hubs." Koslov said cryptically as the car door opened up. The bear stepped out, car shifting noticeably to one side on its chassis as he did so.

Nick followed, glancing around, feeling uneasy.

There were an awful lot of Arctic predators around, bears and stoats for the most part, still wearing coats more equipped for Tundra Town chill than the mild, pleasant heat of the canals.

They appraised Nick silently, faces unreadable.

"Open your coat," Koslov instructed the nearest stoat, "show my friend what you've got under there."

The stoat obeyed without hesitation, flapping his coat open like an alleyway vendor displaying his wares. But instead of knockoff watches or kitsch, Nick was greeted by the strange sight of what appeared to be dozens of thumb-drives, all carefully wrapped in plastic.

"Are those...?" He started to ask.

"Little data chits," Koslov confirmed, "filled with all that a predator would need to pass the city's official test and get their collar off."

Koslov's henchmen, as well as the bear himself, Nick noticed, all still had their collars on. For a moment he felt strangely, irrationally guilty to be standing before them, practically advertising his bare neck.

Then the implications of what Koslov was selling started to sink in.

"Why not pass the test normally?" Nick asked warily.

"It is very difficult if one has a criminal record," Koslov said, "as we do. As you very nearly did." The bear paused for a moment, looking strangely wistful, one massive paw straying up to his own collar. Then seriousness returned.

"Everyone deserves to have their collar off. No matter what they've done." The stoat with the thumb-drives said grimly, then buttoned his coat back up. Behind him Nick saw a pile of neatly folded coats and realized, with a hint of grudging admiration, that Koslov had made a real art out of sewing his illegal chits into winter clothing.

"I...if people think that every predator they see on the streets _cheated_ their way out of the collar then what good will that do?" He asked, suddenly aware that he sounded very much like Hopps.

The stoat's expression darkened.

"Easy for you to say fox," he growled, "you've got your collar off."

Koslov watched this exchange, then his eyes settled slowly onto Nick. The bear seemed perplexed.

"Nicky," Koslov chided, an edge entering his voice, "are you growing a conscience on me? I thought that you would be impressed."

And right then Nick realized that he had sailed unwittingly into very dangerous waters. He was a long way away from anywhere public, and very much surrounded by the Tundra Town mob.

"Your business is your business," Nick said carefully, the fur on the back of his neck standing straight up, "I don't have any say in what you do…but I cant approve of this. Not when it's going to do horrible things to how Zootopia sees us."

The predators working away at the coats had paused in their toils and were watching intently. The bear nearest to Koslov had dropped one paw down to the handle of a stun-gun. Nick waited, sure that at any moment they would jump on him and he would end the day at the bottom of the canal. But instead Koslov glanced back and shook his head slightly, one short motion. And just like that the tension collapsed from the scene like a soap bubble popping in the breeze. The predators returned to their work. Nick had to fight to conceal a sigh of relief.

"You still have that inner fire at very least." Koslov said, but some crucial element to his amiability had drained completely from his tone. Nick had the feeling that Koslov was starting to remember why he had tried to kill the fox before him, all those months ago.

"I hope I didn't just blow my invitation to those saunas," Nick said, forcing himself to smile, to act like the whole soul curdling experience had just been no big deal, "I think I might need them to get my blood thawed out again…"

Koslov smiled, a little too late, his teeth very much on display.

"I trust that you wont mention this to your bunny." The bear's voice was quieter now, words directed to Nick and Nick alone.

"My lips are sealed." Nick said. It was really the only option available.

They got back into Koslov's car, the bear satisfied that his transport hub was operating normally. But as Nick settled back into his seat, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He fished it out.

Hopps.

For a moment he contemplated not answering, just letting the call go to voice mail. That would be the safer option, what with Koslov being practically within arm's reach of him…

Nick took the call anyway. It was Hopps. He kinda had to.

"How's the morning treating my favorite bunny?" He asked, false cheer coloring his voice. Koslov watched him, head cocked slightly to one side, eyes watchful.

"I'm on a stakeout," Hopps said, "so…yeah, nothing too exciting's happening. But I just wanted to call to check in and make sure you're doing okay. Things were kinda moody at breakfast."

Nick was silent for a long moment. He could hear faith stains of Gazelle through Hopps' end of the line and smiled slightly.

"I'm fine. Sorry for being a buzzkill this morning, you deserve a medal for putting up with me. Well…another one."

Hopps laughed.

"That was a commendation for bravery," she chided gently, "and besides, I don't need a medal, I've got you."

Nick couldn't help but smile. He felt genuinely happy now. Almost like he could forget that he'd just come within a whisker's breadth of being killed by angry mobsters.

"…And I've just crossed my allowance of sweet for the day," he chuckled, "thanks for calling Judy."

"What're you up to?" Hopps asked.

"Well," Nick gave Koslov a judicious look, "hanging around with the rich and famous, you know…average Tuesday."

Koslov sat up a little straighter in his seat. Nick felt a flutter of fear kick up in the bottom of his stomach but steadfastly ignored it.

"Rich and famous eh?" Hopps asked, laughing.

"Yep. Got picked up by Gazelle, but I cannot stay for long 'cause I've got an eleven o' clock tee time with Andrei Koslov." He winked at the bear. Koslov shook his head very slightly, clearly unamused.

"Very funny," Hopps said, "try not to hang out with the mob for too long, I'd hate to have to use my cuffs on you for real."

Nick colored under his fur.

"I promise I wont try to resist arrest this time," he said, "see you tonight Judy."

"Love you."

"Love you," Nick returned, "bye." He hung up the phone. Koslov shook his head, exasperated, and signaled to his driver to drive.


	2. Chapter 2

Koslov dropped Nick off in front of his apartment, said a coldly formal goodbye, and then zipped back into traffic. Nick stood on the curb and watched the black car vanish down the street before letting a breath hiss between his teeth.

Well…that had been unexpected.

Koslov had _said_ that he wanted to hear about Hubble, but that clearly hadn't been the case. Or at least all of it. The bear had seemed to want to make amends for his past actions. But why? What could he possibly stand to gain from wooing some marginally famous fox? It wasn't like Nick was in any danger of telling the ZPD about him. After the nightmare in the Palm Hotel had ended both him and Hopps had edited Koslov so thoroughly out of their stories that for the most part the Tundra Town mob had been a footnote in the subsequent legal proceedings.

Hopps had done it to keep her family safe. Nick had just never wanted to see Koslov again. And hadn't, up until this morning.

Nick glanced to the front of his apartment building. Thought about going inside. And doing what?

The thought of watching television made him feel dispirited, the internet wasn't anything more than one grand distraction…

"You were going for a walk." He reminded himself gently. And set off down the street.

As he skirted the edge of downtown proper, mingling with an ever growing crush of pedestrians, Nick tried to recall his nightmare. But, aided by the distance of time and place, it was already fading into the recesses of his mind. He'd been in a classroom, Hubble had been there…and that was about all he could remember.

He pulled off to one side, standing in the shadow of a concrete stoop, and decided to make a call.

The phone rang. Rang. Rang. Just when Nick was beginning to wonder if he'd hit voicemail he heard a staticky commotion on the other end of the line.

"Hmm?" A sleep addled voice asked.

"Finn," Nick said, glad to have caught his friend, "I'd ask if I woke you but that kinda seems unneeded."

Finnick yawned.

"It's seven fifteen Nick," the fennec growled, with just a hint of indignation, "you gotta stop calling me so early…it's unnatural."

Nick smiled faintly. Leaned back against the wall, one foot propped up against cool concrete.

"Judy's an early riser, so I kinda have no choice but to follow suit. Anyway, can I come over? Something weird just happened."

"Weird? What?" Finnick asked, sounding just a little more awake.

"I'll tell you once I'm over there…I'm kinda in public right now."

That seemed to pique Finnick's interest.

"Oh?" He asked.

"I'll be over in just a few minutes." Nick said, and started walking.

Finnick no longer lived in a van. Mostly because the van had been impounded by the ZPD following the Wild Times bust and torn mostly apart by officers searching for evidence. Instead he had a tiny apartment nestled on the edge of the canals. Nick glanced over them as he buzzed Finnick's apartment. Couldn't help but find them just a little foreboding after the events of the morning.

A moment later he was walking through a narrow hallway, lit by flickery fluorescents. The wallpaper was drab, the floorboards creaked. He knocked on one of the white painted doors and heard a bolt being drawn back. Finnick peeked his head out, shirtless and disheveled. He let Nick in.

"So," the fennec said, "define 'weird' for me."

Nick did. Finnick froze in the middle of opening a drawer, head cocked towards Nick, eyes widening.

"That…that…" He gave up looking for an ugly enough term to describe Koslov and slammed the drawer shut with a bang, simmering.

"He seemed to want to make amends…I think." Nick said, taking a seat on one of Finnick's chairs. It was just a little bit too small for him and reminded him very much of the furniture at the Hopps' family home out in the Burrows.

"Gotta say," Finnick said, "he has a nose for business…" There was a hint of grudging respect in his voice.

"Judy mentioned she was looking for the people behind this the other morning," Nick said, "she'd _explode_ with rabbity joy if I told her all of this."

Finnick let out a low, humorless chuckle.

"But you wont."

"Nope. Cant say I'm a fan of the whole 'Koslov trying to kill me' experience." Nick laughed nervously, became aware that he was wringing his paws.

"It doesn't sound like he'll be back," Finnick said after a moment had passed, "if he was as unhappy as you said he was."

That was perfectly fine with Nick.

...

Somewhere on the other side of the river, bundled into a thick coat and sitting in the front seat of a command vehicle, Hopps was overseeing a stakeout. Officer Hart, Hopps' second in command, a deer with carefully trimmed antlers and golden brownish fur, seemed listless.

"No calls in from any of our people yet," he said, noticing Hopps' gaze, "the coast is clear…"

They'd been observing a derelict building in Tundra Town for nearly an hour now, waiting to see if anyone suspicious decided to go inside. No dice so far.

"It's early," Hopps said, glancing at her phone, "the bad guys are still waking up."

Hart nodded dutifully at that. Hopps fiddled with her phone for a moment before putting it away. It was simply too tempting to mess with it when she was on stakeout. Especially a boring stakeout like this one.

"I'll keep an eye on the frequencies if you need to get out and stretch your legs." Hart said. They were parked in an alleyway, Hopps could leave the vehicle if she wanted so, provided she was very quiet about it.

Hopps shook her head.

"I'm fine." She said.

"You're fidgety." Hart replied.

Hopps supposed that the deer was right, but that didn't make her want to leave any more. She'd still be restless even if she took a little circuit around the alleyway.

"Just…thinking I guess." Hopps said with a shrug.

"About your boyfriend?" Hart asked. It was a needless question.

Hopps sighed. Was aware that her ears had gone flat, almost of their own accord.

"About Nick," she confirmed, "I don't want to be the nagging shrew in the relationship…" Hopps trailed off, aghast as she realized what she'd just said. "Sorry…didn't mean to…say that."

Hart shook his head, unconcerned.

"It doesn't matter," he said, "you were saying?"

"Well…uh…right. I don't want to have to nag at him, but he needs to do something about all of this. Something really bad happened between him and Hubble, and I cant figure any of it out."

"It might not just be Hubble," Hart said thoughtfully, "Hubble might be the face of his fears, but he's gone through a lot Lieutenant. Have you thought of having him go to see a councilor?"

Hopps nodded slowly.

"I have. But I don't think that Nick would want to, you know?"

Hart raised an eyebrow.

"He has to know that the force sends us to the councilor pretty much at the drop of a hat. The first time I stunned a suspect I had to go visit the ZPD councilor over in the Sahara Square station and tell him how it made me feel. It's not anything abnormal."

"I'll try to convince him." Hopps said. And fell silent again.

Somehow none of this made her feel any better.

...

"Still feels weird having the collar off," Finnick was saying, rubbing at his neck, "every now and then I'm sure that it's gonna be there, like if I look in the mirror then I'll see that green light again."

That was a sentiment that Nick was unfortunately familiar to.

"I saw an ad when I was going through Sahara Square once," Nick said, "I was in a taxi, we were stuck in traffic so I turned on the little TV they have built in the back of the driver's seat. And it was for a collar themed episode of Dr. Filly. All these predators coming on and telling the good doctor about how they were getting along after getting their collars taken off. Made me feel weird…seeing society suddenly give a fig about us."

Finnick listened to this, then got silently up and fetched a pair of beers from the fridge. He offered one to Nick.

"It's eight in the morning Finn," Nick said, "thanks but no thanks."

"You've had a rough start to your day," the fennec countered, popping the cap off of his bottle, "unwind for a little bit."

Nick contemplated the bottle, condensation sweating off of the green glass. Finally he sighed, shaking his head ruefully at himself.

"Alright," he said, "one beer. One."

Finnick smiled and tossed the bottle over. Nick caught it.

"Have you heard anything from Honey lately?" Nick asked.

Finnick shook his head slightly, wiping a little crescent of foam from his muzzle.

"Nope. Kitty's gone AWOL. Again."

Nick said nothing. This wasn't terribly surprising, Honey had picked up the habit of vanishing every now and then. In Nick's mind the cheetah was probably out building a new bunker. The old one had been seized by the city and pretty thoroughly dismantled.

"He'll turn up." Nick said.

"Yep," Finnick said, "sooner or later..."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, then the fennec glanced over.

"How's your police bunny doing?" He asked.

Nick frowned very slightly.

"It wouldn't kill you to say her name."

Finnick's ears went flat for a moment.

"Judy." He said. "How's Judy?"

"Fine," Nick said, "work's keeping her busy busy busy."

"Uh huh," Finnick said, taking another sip of his drink, "it's a busy time for Zootopia..."

"I'm thinking about proposing." Nick said before he could stop himself. The words seemed to come directly from some place beyond his conscious waking mind...yet they felt right nonetheless.

"...Oh boy," Finnick said after a moment, "you're serious."

Nick nodded, watching Finnick fiddle with his half empty bottle. The fennec looked uncomfortable. Fidgety.

"I love her Finn," Nick said, all levity gone from his voice, "I know you don't like her, but-"

Finnick cut Nick off with a sharp wave of his paw.

"Hey," he growled, "don't put words in my mouth buddy. I think Judy is a fine lady, and you two make a good couple...just...don't rush into anything. You've been together a year, right? That might not be enough for marriage."

Nick listened to his friend's words. Knew that Finnick only meant the best by them but felt a little coal of hurt flame up within him regardless.

"These must be dark days if you of all people are acting as the voice of responsibility in my life."

Finnick smiled a faint ghost of a smile. Finished his beer.

"Keep what I've said in mind Nick. Oh, and if you're not gonna touch that beer then feel free to pass it over."

Nick did so. Finnick tucked in.

"That's a lot of beer Finn. You're not the biggest mammal in the world." He noted.

"I've got a big personality." Finnick said, and took a larger swig, as though Nick had challenged him.

"You wanna take a walk somewhere?" Nick asked after a moment had passed. He was feeling restless again. Fidgety. The mood in Finnick's apartment felt all wrong to him. Perhaps outside it would clear up a little bit.

"Can't," the fennec sighed, glancing over to a wall clock that hung over the oven, "I'm a working stiff now, gotta catch my bus in twenty minutes."

"Oh. Right. Forgot..." Nick smiled apologetically. That was right, it was a Tuesday, Finnick worked on Tuesdays. And most other days too.

"How's the job treating you?" Nick asked after a moment had passed.

"Well, I sure wish ZNN had libeled me so I had the option not to work," Nick blinked, what was that _look_ that Finnick had just given him? "But it's not too bad. The days go by quickly."

"Good to hear..."

Nick excused himself and left Finnick's apartment, feeling even uneasier than before.


	3. Chapter 3

It was noon before anyone approached the building, and Hopps had been playing a distracted game of tic-tac-toe with Hart when the call came in.

"Car Four here. Male stoat approaching south entrance." Her radio crackled. Hopps sat bolt upright, nose twitching.

"Winter coat?" Hart asked, taking up the radio.

"In both senses," Car Four responded, "black jacket, white fur. Seems nervous."

"Of course he does…" Hopps muttered to herself and held out a paw. Hart handed over the radio.

"The moment he touches the door I want you to go after him. Have cars One through Three move to block off possible avenues of escape." Hopps glanced over to Hart and smiled.

"Yes Lieutenant." Car Four said, and silence resumed. Hopps stared at the building ahead of them. They were posted at the east entrance, the stoat would be just around the corner from them.

Hopps fidgeted. Wished that she could go after the suspect herself…but that wasn't her role in this operation. She was overseeing the other units, her place was in the command vehicle.

"He's turning." Car Four said suddenly, and Hopps was about to ask them to clarify when she saw a little black clad figure peek carefully around the corner of the building. She cocked her head, staring.

The stoat, paws stuffed deep in the pockets of his jacket, stalked around the corner, heading for the south entrance. He looked carefully around him but didn't seem to notice the ZPD command vehicle lurking in the shadows of the alley, just a few dozen yards away.

"This is Lieutenant Hopps," Hopps said on the radio, "I have eyes on the suspect. Car Two, what's your position?" Car Two covered the west entrance.

"Maintaining assigned position," Two assured her, "what's the suspect's position?"

"Approaching the south door." Hopps said, and put a paw on the door handle. Hart glanced over at her, mildly alarmed.

"You aren't assigned to be going out there Lieutenant." He said, sounding unsure of his own words.

"I'm not so sure that's true anymore." Hopps said distractedly. Her attention wasn't on Hart or the radio. She had focused entirely on the stoat, who had finished looking around him for danger and was traipsing through the snow, only a few yards from the door.

The other cars were maintaining position. It would take them a few moments to get into place and rush for the south entrance if Hopps ordered them to. Hart and her were the only officers within eyeshot of the suspect at the moment. And as the command vehicle, they weren't supposed to move.

"You can't go in alone." Hart said, quickly realizing that Hopps was not going to be dissuaded.

Ahead of them the stoat rapped on the door, casting another glance behind him as he did so. Still didn't see the command vehicle.

The stoat waited for a moment, then the door opened. Just a sliver, but it opened. Hopps grabbed for the radio.

"All cars," she began, "suspect signaled to mammals inside of the target building. Cover the doors, enter for immediate effect." Though her voice was calm Hopps felt a little kick of adrenaline begin to burn within her. Exhilaration. The thrill of the chase being stoked to life.

She checked her stun-gun and made sure her stab-proof vest was on straight.

"Chief's not gonna be happy." Hart warned.

"Chief's never happy." Hopps said lightly, and opened the door. Ahead of her, twenty yards away, she could see the stoat talking to someone through the door. Waving a paw dramatically. It didn't appear to be a very happy discussion.

She could hear fragments of conversation drifting across the snow as she crept up to the mouth of the alley.

"...not enough...outside...coat...Koslov."

It was this last word that made Hopps pause in her approach for a moment.

 _Koslov._

Taking a deep breath, Hopps steeled herself, reached for her stun-gun and dashed out of the alleyway.

"ZPD!" She shouted, "freeze!"

Time seemed to slow. Hopps ran forward, low to the ground, Hart right next to her, looking frightened and unhappy.

Fifteen yards ahead the stoat, one paw up on the doorframe, whirled around, fur fluffing out in fright.

"The cops!" He cried. Quite unnecessarily. Around the corner Hopps could hear sirens wailing to life as her team moved to seal the building off.

The stoat turned to the door and scrabbled at the handle as it began to close.

"Wait! Jerry! _Let me in!"_ His voice was wheedling and panicked, and Hopps could see the stoat's eyes going wide as he realized just how close she was to capturing him.

"Listen, I'm sorry about Thursday!" The stoat called, but the unseen mammal on the other side of the door (Jerry) didn't seem to be in a forgiving mood. The door slammed shut.

The stoat whirled fully around, snarling, teeth bared, jittering with mingled terror and anger.

"Paws up," Hopps panted as she skidded to a stop in the snow, stun-gun aimed, "you're under arrest."

The stoat took a step to the side, then started to run. Hopps squeezed the trigger and her stun-gun fired with a fierce crackle and a blue flash of electricity.

The prongs hit the stoat square in center of his back, sinking into black fabric, but...

The suspect kept on running.

For a moment Hopps paused, utterly confused, then she realized what had happened.

The black winter coat the stoat was wearing had blocked her shot. It was evidently a great deal heavier than it looked.

Or lined with something.

"Hart!" She cried, "take the door. I'm in pursuit!" And before Hart could protest or get a word in edgewise, Hopps was sprinting after the fleeing stoat, empty stun-gun left behind in the snow.

The stoat stared back over his shoulder and put on an additional burst of speed. But he was panting already, slipping and sliding in the snow and ice.

Behind her Hopps heard a tear gas grenade explode with a bang and momentarily wondered how her team was doing before casting those thoughts aside.

She was in pursuit. If this suspect got away then she would be extremely upset at herself.

"Stop!" She shouted, voice echoing from frost rimed walls and icy streets. Ahead of her she could see Car Two skidding to a halt, blocking the street up ahead. The stoat zagged to the side and suddenly he was squirming into a culvert pipe, tail wriggling furiously as he forced himself through.

Hopps glance helplessly over to where Car Two was and realized that her team would be useless from here on. The stoat would be able to go places that none of them could fit.

None of them except for her.

Hopps dove after the stoat. Snagged his tail for a moment, then ha to dodge backwards to avoid being kicked in the face.

Staggering backwards, breath steaming in the frigid air, Hopps stared down at the pipe for a helpless moment before looking instead to the wall that it led through.

The stoat couldn't make it over.

But she definitely could.

Tensing, she got a good grip on the rough, ice covered surface, and jumped.

She skidded off of the top of the wall. Movement below her. The stoat worming his way out of the pipe. Hopps tensed her legs, had the satisfaction of seeing the beginnings of terror form in the stoat's eyes, then she stomped him flat into the snow. Felt multiple somethings crunch beneath her feet.

Then she was rolling through the snow, off balance. Came to a rest on her paws and knees, snow flurrying around her.

Stood up. Drew her stun baton and advanced...right into a flapping black mass that slapped her right across the face.

Hopps reeled. Ducked away as she realized that the stoat had thrown his coat at her. Then felt the stoat tackle her. Wiry arms lacing around her waist.

She twisted, ripping the coat away from her face with one paw as she grabbed onto the stoat's collar with her other.

There was a beep and suddenly the world was agony. Hopps and the stoat shrieked in unison, then bounced apart as they hit the ground.

Hopps staggered to her feet, slashing her baton in front of her, and caught the stoat across the jaw as he tried to lunge at her. The blow knocked him flat, sent his eyes spinning drunkenly in their sockets.

"You're under arrest," she gasped, wincing as she fished her cuffs out and pinioned the stoat's arms behind his back, "you have the right to remain silent..."

God had that _hurt._ It had been a long time since she'd been stunned, and the shock from the stoat's collar had left her muscles stiff and jerky.

The stoat snarled weakly and tried to squirm away. Hopps pressed him deeper into the snow.

"I know you," he wheezed after a moment, "you're that Hopps bunny." He laughed jaggedly, blood pinking his teeth, "tell Nicky I said hi."

Hopps froze.

"What did you just say?" She demanded.

But the stoat just smiled.

...

The Chief's office was a wide open, utilitarian place, with a gunmetal gray desk and matching furniture. It perfectly matched the Chief himself, who was staring at Hopps with something approaching exasperation.

"You broke protocol," he said, folding his hooves atop his desk, "and endangered yourself chasing a suspect that you really ought to have been able to immobilize on the spot."

Sitting before the Chief, feeling impossibly tiny in the enormous chair she'd been offered, Hopps smiled apologetically.

The Chief, being a particularly grim rhino, didn't seem to like this very much.

"Hate to disagree sir," Hopps said, "but the reason I didn't immobilize the suspect was, well, his coat. Which turned out to be full of illicit data chits. We've made a major breakthrough here sir."

The Chief raised an eyebrow.

"That doesn't excuse you breaking protocol. Fact is, Lieutenant, this isn't an isolated incident for you. Last year you went after Nick Wilde solo and nearly got yourself killed a dozen times over because of it. If that whole debacle hadn't turned out to be a very...unusual incident, then you might have ended up in front of a tribunal."

 _I_ _did_ _end up in front of a tribunal._ Hopps thought, but knew better than to say that to the Chief.

"I get results Chief." She said stubbornly.

"At the cost of your potential wellbeing, and that of your team. I appreciate that you're willing to give control to Officer Hart, but you must do so in a manner that follows the rules. You are not exempt from them Lieutenant, no matter what the last year might have taught you."

Ouch. That stung.

"Yes sir." Hopps said.

The Chief sighed, looked at Hopps with something akin to paternal fondness.

"You're a good officer Hopps," he said, "but you've always been impulsive. And that," the Chief paused briefly to emphasize, "more than anything is what gets officers killed in this line of work. Understood?"

"Yes sir." Hopps repeated. Quieter this time.

"Dismissed."

Hopps left the office. Heard the door click shut behind her. Took a deep breath and went on with her day.

...

The stoat was sitting, slouched, head lowered and eyes glowering. He seemed to know that the mirror in the interrogation room was two way and was glaring fiercely through it. At Hopps.

"What did he say to you?" Hart asked, sidling up next to her, a cup of coffee in one hoof.

Hopps shook her head.

"Nothing important." She said lightly, and watched as the interrogation room door opened and a pair of officers filed in. Hopps had pretended to be unhappy that she wouldn't be the one questioning the stoat…or any of the other Tundra Town mobsters they'd snatched up, but in truth she was mildly relieved.

What the stoat had said frightened her.

And the more she contemplated what it might mean, the worse the possibilities got.


	4. Chapter 4

Nick was in the middle of chopping celery for soup when his phone buzzed. Wiping his paws, he fished it out, expecting Finnick or Honey or…

 _Oh._

He had just received a text from a blocked number.

 _Your bunny is putting herself in danger Nicky._ The message read. Nick set the phone down, soup suddenly forgotten. Though the number had been blocked he knew perfectly well who the text had come from.

Taking a deep breath, Nick glanced at the time. Eight. Hopps would be home soon. He exhaled. Took another deep breath. Repeated the process until his paws quit shaking.

Briefly considered sending Koslov a text back. Something angry. Then realized that he couldn't. Of course Koslov wouldn't give him a chance to talk back.

His thoughts migrated over to the other big topic. Could he tell Hopps about this?

He wanted to. But how would Koslov react if he found out? Would he come after them? The thought put a chill down Nick's spine.

"The text is unrelated to the transit hub," he said out loud, to the apartment, "you can tell her about the text without compromising anything else."

A moment later he heard the apartment door unlock and nearly jumped. But it was only Hopps.

She seemed distracted, but there was a definite bounce in her step.

"Welcome home," Nick said, spreading a smile across his face, "I'm making soup."

Hopps unbuckled her utility belt and set it on the kitchen island before leaning up against Nick, head cuddled into the hollow of his shoulder.

"Smells good," she said, "how was your day?"

"Uneventful," Nick lied casually, "saw Finnick, picked up some essentials from the store." He paused, "golf with Koslov wasn't as much fun as I thought it would be." He teased, but Hopps didn't laugh.

"Speaking of Koslov," she said, breaking away, "we raided a building in Tundra Town today. Found a thousand of those data chits I was telling you about last week." Hopps seemed genuinely happy about this, but Nick could detect an undercurrent of apprehension in the bunny's tone.

"Wow," Nick said, blinking, "that's…a lot." A little thrill of fear sang jaggedly through him. No wonder Koslov had sent him that text…a loss like that had to be seriously upsetting.

"We also took a half dozen predators into custody," Hopps continued, "all low level, but I think they'll tell us some interesting stuff."

Nick was silent for a long moment. So the ZPD had just landed a body blow on Koslov's operation. Right after the bear himself had come to show Nick around. The only saving grace was that the transit hub hadn't been the location raided.

"You," Nick said, kissing Hopps on the forehead, trying desperately to bury his nervousness, "are kicking ass and taking names."

Hopps colored under her fur.

"I try." She laughed, and kissed Nick back.

Nick decided to forget about the soup for the time being. Something _good_ needed to happen today. Something that couldn't be spoiled or subverted or ruined.

He guided Hopps over to the kitchen table, boosted her up onto it. She giggled.

"Ooh, taking control…" She cooed.

Nick silenced her with a kiss. leaned in to undo the top button of her uniform. Bumped his head on the overhead lights. Hopps giggled, he smiled. Leaned in again, successfully this time.

"I love you." He told her.

"Not more than I love you." She countered, and then they were kissing again, clothes rumpled, Hopps lying back on the table, Nick bent over her, the overhead lights swaying slightly. Buzzing.

Buzzing?

Nick paused. Unsure of what he was hearing. There was something in the tone that wasn't right. Something toneless and angry and…and…

One paw drifted up to his neck. He froze. The buzzing was deepening to a malicious crackle. The sound of a stun-gun firing, a collar going off, electricity arcing into tender flesh and-

The lights exploded with a bang and a blue flash of electricity. Nick yelped and jumped back, tripping over his own feet, falling back into the kitchen island, knocking over a chair with a crash.

Hopps leapt after him, bits of glass glittering in her fur. The kitchen had gone dim all of a sudden, the overhead light fixtures still swaying slightly, lightbulbs reduced to jagged stubs of glass and twisted wire.

Nick dug his claws into his thighs, trying to get his paws to stop shaking, his heart to stop knocking arrhythmically in his chest. Terror was pulsing within him like a sped up tide. In and out, soaking his nerve endings with old memories. Unpleasant ones.

"Nick?" Hopps asked, kneeling down in front of him.

Nick stared. Didn't trust himself to say anything.

"We had a power surge I think," Hopps said, eyes still wide with fright, "it's…" No big deal, was what she probably would have finished the sentence with.

Nick tried to smile. To force himself up so he could find a dustpan and broom and clear up the mess. So he and Hopps could salvage the evening.

But that wasn't going to happen. He could read it in Hopps' face. Could see it in the dull glitter of the glass dusting the table and floor. Nick opened his mouth to say something. To ask Hopps if she was okay, but only managed to produce a ragged whimper.

Hopps enfolded him in a hug.

They stayed that way for a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

Koslov, like many large mammals, wore his emotions on his sleeve for the whole world to see. This was readily apparent all throughout the dinner he was having with the bosses of his Sahara Square outfit.

The bosses were a nervous bunch, the survivors of a post Hubble purge that had seen a lot of their compatriots (more than a few linked to Hubble and the mayor only by fine and tenuous strands of evidence) vanish forever into the aether. Or Koslov's ice machine. Whichever term one preferred to use.

Their nervousness was hardly soothed by Koslov's increasingly dire mood as the dinner progressed. Every few moments a new messenger would come, ferrying news of the aftermath of the Tundra Town raid to the crime boss' ears.

The bear's paws clenched hard around his silverware, his eyes blazed with silent fury, and even in his moments of contemplation, Koslov looked downright murderous. Conversation had effectively ground to a halt. The Sahara Square bosses, camels and jackals and antelopes, all kept their eyes carefully down.

Koslov, behind his stormy exterior, was thinking carefully about Nick and Hopps.

The fox, Nicky, provoked complex and conflicting emotions within Koslov. On the one paw Nicky had saved Koslov's life and business, however inadvertently, from Hubble. On the other he had intertwined himself (quite literally) with the bunny lieutenant Hopps.

His feelings towards Hopps were slightly less complex and could be amply described as abject loathing. She had never stopped trying to take him down, and now, with a successful raid under her belt, she would be emboldened.

Part of him wanted very badly to just kill Hopps and be done with it, but the rest knew that carrying out an act that rash would be an act of personal suicide. Hopps was popular in Zootopia, whoever killed her would become a villain in the eyes of the city…as Koslov had witnessed the year before.

Killing Nick would probably be unwise as well. And besides, Koslov didn't especially _want_ to kill the fox. It would be a fairly serious breach of his moral code to ice someone who had saved his life and entire business…even if it had been on accident.

One of the boss' phones began to ring. The first few bars from some Gazelle song repeating over and over. Koslov blinked, snapped unpleasantly from his thoughts. He stared across the table at the camel whose phone was going off.

"Go ahead," he said irritably, waving one massive paw, "it must be very important."

The camel nervously pulled out his phone. He was Koslov's headmost boss in Sahara Square, in charge of business within the Palm Hotel. That was the position that Hubble had held, once upon a time.

"Hello?" He asked. Listened for a few moments, then nodded slightly to himself.

Koslov sipped his wine. Wished that he had something stronger.

After another few moments the camel ended the call and glanced apprehensively around the table with a nervous laugh.

"Sorry," he said, forcing a smile, "it was…uh, an associate. Wanted to know how to get scorch marks out of the bottom of a pan."

Koslov glowered into his glass, eyes flickering up to fix the boss with a withering gaze.

"Vinegar," he growled, then set his glass down with a bang, "in fact, this swill you've served us would do the job quite well." He got up. Stalked from the room. Left nothing but nervous silence behind him.

"I just want you to consider it," Hopps was saying, clasping Nick's paw in her own, "seeing a councilor isn't anything unusual…lots of people do it."

Nick was silent. They were sitting in the living room, on the couch, a pair of tea mugs steaming gently before them. The broken glass had been cleaned up, the light bulbs replaced…yet something in the apartment remained badly off kilter.

"I don't know Judy." He said at last. Felt a deep thrum of unease kick off within him at Hopps' mention of a councilor.

"I have to go talk to the station psychologist twice a month," she said, "no matter what. ZPD regulations. Nobody judges me, and nobody's going to judge you."

"It's not that," Nick said, "I…I _know_ there's nothing wrong with going to talk with someone, but I just don't like the thought of telling some random stranger everything that's on my mind." He paused for a moment, "this is gonna sound stupid, but what if they used it against me somehow? Like ZNN last year?"

Hopps was silent for a while. Nick watched steam curl languidly up from his mug of tea.

"That's the thing about psychologists," she said at last, "they're sworn to secrecy. They cannot disclose what their patients say to them without getting into legal trouble. So, I've got your back on this."

Nick smiled wanly. Rubbed the back of his hand roughly over his eyes and let out a shaky breath. He still felt wound up, like a guitar string cranked two or three turns past any safe tuning position. Like he could fly to pieces at any moment.

There were simply too many horrible little things flying around the inside of his mind. Koslov, the nightmares, Hubble, the nagging feeling that he'd done something wrong at Finnick's apartment…it all blended to a sickly gray slush that coated his synapses. Dulled his thoughts. Trapped him in an ever thickening swamp of dread and terror.

"Do you know any?" He asked at last.

"Any psychologists?" Hopps considered, "well…when I first started in the ZPD our station psychologist was Dr. Frost. He's retired from the force now, but I think he still does private work." Hopps looked contemplative.

"And he was good?" Nick asked.

"Very," Hopps said without hesitation, "kinda weird and cerebral, but he knew his way around people. I was sad when he left."

Nick was silent for a long while.

"If I scheduled an appointment for you, would you go?" Hopps asked.

"Something tells me you wouldn't be happy if I didn't."

Hopps rested her head on Nick's shoulder.

"You've been through a lot Nick."

Somehow that made Nick feel small and wounded, like some dumb creature trapped at the bottom of a burrow, a crowd of hunters arrayed immediately outside.

"So have you," he said, "we were both there in the Palm when…when…" He trailed off. Shivered. One paw went up to his neck, almost entirely of its own accord.

"More than that Nick," Hopps said, and cuddled closer to him, squeezing his paw, "you're such a strong person…but you cant keep all of that bottled up. It's like a volcano…eventually it'll explode."

The analogy put an ugly taste in Nick's mouth, but he wasn't sure why.

"If I go to see Dr. Frost will you leave me alone about seeing a shrink?" He asked.

"I'll call him up in the morning," Hopps said, "and don't worry. If you don't like it then I'm not going to force you to go back."

Nick sipped his tea, which had gone lukewarm.

"Thank you Judy." He said.

She nuzzled into him. Nick looked across the living room, to the newly cleaned kitchen. Spotted a single tiny piece of broken glass in the corner.

Catching the light.

Glittering.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning a pale green envelope arrived in the mail, buttressed with glossy advertisements and sturdy, city emblem stamped bills. Nick picked it out and slit it open with one claw, withdrawing a little white check made out to one Nicholas P. Wilde.

He looked at it. Set it down, and put the envelope into the recycling bin.

The check was from ZNN, worth three thousand dollars.

He got one from them each month and would for the rest of his life. Damages from the libel case that he'd clubbed them with last year.

They issued out similar checks to nearly a thousand people all across the city, a result of the tide of lawsuits they'd received after Nick won his case. All in all, Zootopia's largest media conglomerate had been badly damaged by the Holt and Hubble debacle of the previous year.

Word on the street was that they'd file for bankruptcy within five years. The payouts would probably stop in that case. Nick didn't especially care. It was true that the three thousand dollars per month was helpful, but it felt like hush money to him. Like it suddenly made it perfectly okay that ZNN had more or less called for his death only a year before.

He sighed and set the check down, casting the thoughts from his mind. They wouldn't stop hm from cashing the check. Money was money after all, and rent was expensive.

...

Hopps called Frost from the break room at the station. It was early, she'd only just clocked in, and the room was empty. Copies of the new collar regulations hung from each wall, important bits highlighted in yellow.

It still felt strange seeing them. Felt stranger still seeing collarless predators on the street. Not too many of them yet, but that would change soon. And atop all of that weirdness was the knowledge that she'd had an integral role in all of that happening.

All because she'd decided to buck protocol and chase after a prison escapee personally. And trust that escapee. And help that escapee. And…and love that escapee.

"And that was only a year ago." She marveled quietly to herself, then tapped the call button and listened to her phone ring.

Once. Twice. Then Frost picked up, clearing his throat.

"Frost residence?" He asked, sounding slightly sleepy. Hopps winced, hoping she hadn't woken him up.

"Dr. Frost," Hopps said, "it's Judy Hopps…from Central Station. You remember me?"

Frost sounded delighted.

"Judy," he cried, "what a treat! How are things at the station? I understand you're a lieutenant now. That must be exciting…"

"The coffee hasn't gotten any better," Hopps smiled, Frost chuckled on the other end of the line, "but I was calling to ask you a favor. Are you still working?"

Frost was silent for a few moments.

"For specialized clients," he said vaguely, "do you need to see me Judy?" His voice was tinged with concern. Hopps could just about imagine Frost leaning forward from where he was sitting, brow furrowing with unhidden worry.

"No, not me," Hopps said, "Nick Wilde."

"Oh, the fox," Frost said, mildly surprised, "I understand that you two are, uh, living together now?" He said this a little hesitantly, like he was afraid of being wrong.

"Yes, for about eight months now," Hopps said, her smile taking on a nervous edge, "but, well, I don't think he's…it's kinda complicated with him right now."

"If you two are having domestic concerns," Frost said, "I'm not sure how much help I'd be…I've never dealt with an arrangement as…uh, unorthodox as yours."

Hopps blushed through her fur.

"No! It's not domestic," her ears had folded back and Hopps was aware that she was flaming with embarrassment, "it would just be for him."

Frost said nothing for a few moments.

"Well…I cannot say I'd be adverse to taking him on as a client, but I must admit that I have not treated any predators before. You may be better off sending Mr. Wilde to a _predator_ psychologist."

Hopps blinked.

"There's no difference between predators and prey." She said, a little hotly.

"And I'm not disputing that," Frost said patiently, "I apologize if you thought I was saying something else. Mr. Wilde is collarless, right?"

"Yes, thankfully." Hopps said.

"Indeed," Frost said, a little distractedly, "but more importantly, is he willing to see me?"

"Yes." Hopps said. Wasn't entirely sure if she was telling the truth. It was true that Nick had agreed to give Frost a visit, but would he say anything?

"Well…" Frost trailed off, "this is an interesting proposal you've given me Judy," he said with a little laugh, "I could see him tomorrow morning. Eight o' clock."

Hopps had to hide a little sigh of relief.

"Thank you." She said, and meant it.

Frost gave her an address and she wrote it down, then he took his leave and was gone.

Hopps wondered what her old station psychologist was up to these days. He seemed to be staying somewhat busy, which was good. She'd have to ask him the next time she spoke to him.

"Lieutenant?"

Hopps glanced behind her. Saw Hart poking his head into the break room's doorway.

"Oh, hey Hart." She smiled. Hart didn't return her pleasantries.

"Chief's gonna brief us in a minute," he said, "we'd better get going."

Hopps stood and together her and Hart moved through the halls. Past administrative rooms and the early morning bustle flowing in and out of them. The administrative rooms were mostly full of rabbits and other small mammals, and Hopps could feel more than a few lingering gazes as she passed.

She squared her shoulders and tried hard to look determined and confident, rather than just plain nervous and unsettled.

No matter how hard she tried she couldn't get Nick out of her head. She was seriously worried about him…what was happening to him. Hopefully seeing Frost would help. He'd certainly helped her out a lot back when she'd been nothing more than a rookie, starting out in a strange and unfriendly place.

That seemed like ancient history now, hieroglyphs and fuzzy, unformed memories, when in reality she'd only been on the force for six years.

"Are you okay?" Hart asked. Hopps almost jumped, thoughts shattering around her.

She nodded briskly.

"Yeah…just fine."

Hart clearly wasn't convinced.

"Chief chewed me out yesterday," he said, "guess he did the same to you…" He paused for a moment, considering whether or not it was wise to continue, "we're lucky he didn't kick us off the case after what you did back there."

Hopps gave Hart a surprised look.

"The stoat would have gotten away if I hadn't gone after him." She said defensively.

Hart sighed.

"Listen Hopps," he said, "I don't wanna get into a fight wth you, but you have to listen to Chief. Follow the rules. It's not just you that's getting into trouble when you don't."

Hopps had nothing to say to that. They entered the briefing room.

The Chief came in only a few moments after they'd taken their seats. He held a slim pair of briefing folders in his hooves and set them down onto the podium as he took it.

"Good morning," he addressed the gathered officers, "hope you all rested up 'cause this is gonna be a busy one." He flicked the first briefing folder open.

"Our bust in Tundra Town has borne fruit," he continued, "and we've got intel that Andrei Koslov is moving his chits through the canals. That'll change soon, but for now we're gonna be monitoring the canals and imposing mandatory searches on water traffic. We've also obtained search warrants for a number of properties in Tundra Town that might be owned by the mob. That'll be the reserve of Lieutenant Hopps and her team." The Chief's eyes lingered on Hopps for just a beat too long. Then he was continuing.

"And next we've got news from the Mayor's office. Mayor Roan is considering declaring a state of emergency because of this Tundra Town situation, so keep your fingers crossed…our jobs might just get a little easier."

There was a little whoop of approval from the officers and Hopps smiled. A state of emergency erased habeus corpus and loosened warrant requirements considerably, which made police work quite a bit easier. However, it also generally led to bad things happening in the Docks and other predator heavy areas of the city. Bad things that had become considerably more visible in the last year, ever since ZNN had been sued into submission.

"Hopps," the Chief said, and Hopps got up, accepting the Tundra Town folder from him. She opened it up, skimming over it with Hart.

There were four properties in Tundra Town that the internal courts had granted search warrants for. And another ten that could be searched if a state of emergency was declared. Hopps nodded to herself as she considered where the properties were. One was close to the harbor, another two by the outskirts, and the final one seemed to be an abandoned grocery store nestled in the very heart of Tundra Town.

"Oh, and more exciting news," the Chief said, "because of Andrei Koslov and these chits he's selling, the city may have to conduct investigations into those folks that have passed the test so far, which will doubtlessly be a PR nightmare." His voice had dropped into growly disapproval.

Somebody muttered something to his neighbor behind Hopps, words almost indecipherable.

 _"How much you wanna bet we'll have to put every last collar back on?"_

Hopps turned slightly in her seat.

"Shh." She said, giving the speaker a pointed look. He blinked, avoiding her gaze.

"Any questions?" The Chief asked from the front of the room. A plethora of hooves and paws raised.

"McHorn." The Chief selected a black rhino.

"The predators that cheated their way outta the collar. Who's gonna be putting their collar back on?"

The Chief smiled grimly.

"We will. There are ten thousand collarless predators out there, and we're gonna have to take a look at the vast majority of them. If even a small percentage need to have their collars put back on then that'll involve most of our active duty officers." He looked back to the room as a whole, selected a sheep, "Doolittle."

"Sir," Doolittle said, "has anyone in the brass petitioned Mayor Roan for an extended state of emergency…until Andrei Koslov is arrested?" This got a rumble of assent.

"I'm not at liberty to say," the chief said succinctly, "Bethel?"

Bethel, an antelope, straightened his uniform. He was a member of Hopps' team, one of the officers who stormed buildings and did the tough work when it came time for that.

"I heard rumors that SWAT is gonna be issued guns pretty soon. Any truth to that?"

"No. The ZPD does not carry firearms," the Chief said, "and we never will." Hopps nodded in mild approval. It had taken her ribs more than a month to fully heal after Hubble had shot her. The thought of more firearms being out on the streets, even if they belonged to the ZPD, made her skin crawl.

"But what if the post-collar crime stats are as bad as everyone says?" Bethel asked.

"If you want a gun Bethel," the Chief said, "then go join Koslov's outfit. _Those_ are the kind of people in this city that carry guns." That seemed to end any dialogue on firearms that would have otherwise developed. Bethel fell silent. Stared down at the surface of the table he was sitting at, looking troubled.

Hopps glanced back at him. Felt a little chill of unease pass through her as she contemplated his question. He'd brought up post-collar crime stats…the stats that would be taken when ever last collar was gone and predators in Zootopia were just as free as prey.

"Hart." The Chief said, and Hopps glanced back over, to see that her partner had raised a hoof.

"When should we expect a state of emergency? If Roan declares one."

The Chief checked his watch.

"By noon. That's usually when she holds her daily press conference. But we'll know a little sooner than that…once she's made up her mind." It was currently a little after seven. The Mayor was cutting it pretty close if she planned on declaring a state of emergency. Usually, back when Hopps had been fresh to the force, the Mayor's office had given the ZPD at least twelve hour's notice when declaring a state of emergency.

But times had changed. Roan was a more politically cautious operator than Holt or his predecessors had been. Whatever decision she reached, it would have been mulled over considerably.

"No more questions?" The chief asked, "alright. Get out there and show 'em who's boss!"

The officers of Central Station did.

...

Koslov was listening to the news. ZNN had on a panel that was discussing the recent Tundra Town raid and what it meant in relation to the whole grand collar debate. On the panel was a former ZPD station chief, an old retired pop star and a predator right's activist who still wore her collar.

"These are criminals," the station chief was growling, eyes narrowed, "simple as that. The city has provided an avenue for the removal of collars, and these thugs are deliberately violating it." The station chief, a ram, kept a wary gaze on the predator rights activist the whole time he was speaking.

The activist, a wolf, seemed miffed.

"I'm not condoning the actions of Andrei Koslov," she said, "the furthest thing from it…but we have to recognize that the collar provisions put into place by the city do not make any allowances for predators with criminal records. That's inherently unfair to the thousands of predators in Zootopia who have rehabilitated and deserve a chance at a normal life just as much as anyone else."

"Alright," said the ZNN moderator, "but what do you have to say to the fact that there are violent criminals who have used Koslov's falsification services to slip out of the collar?"

"There's no evidence for that." The activist said stiffly.

"Yet." Said the station chief.

"Guys," the pop-star interjected, "come on…all this arguing wont change anything. It'll just set us more firmly in our ways…you know?"

The moderator raised an eyebrow.

"You've been quiet this morning," he said, "what's your opinion on this whole matter? What should be done?"

"I don't know," the pop-star said with a shrug of his shoulders, "but, like, when I was on concert back in the day sometimes I'd play at places where predators and prey were kept separate, like, there'd be ropes in the middle of the audience keeping them apart. I don't dig that, never did. When it comes down to it predators are fine. Prey are fine. We're all pretty okay, you know?" He trailed off. There was silence at the table for a long moment.

"Okay," the moderator said, "on that note, a recent study commissioned by the city has noted that a definite majority of prey are frightened by the collar provisions…though they don't want to reverse them. Chief, what do you make of that?"

The station chief stirred in his seat.

"The collar always was a legal nightmare…tough to implement without turning predators into second class citizens-"

The activist cut him off.

 _"Without_ turning us into second class citizens?" She asked, voice ablaze with outrage, "predators have zero representation in the ZPD, we're incarcerated at massively inflated levels compared to prey, receive longer sentences, make less money, have less representation in government-"

She in turn was cut off by the station chief, whose eyes had gone flat and ugly.

"You people had the Mayor's office for two years," he growled, "and that turned out fantastic…"

" 'You people?' " The activist bared her teeth, and shot to her feet, the station chief rising to meet her, "you better watch your mouth you _bigot."_

A moment later her collar beeped and the wolf went to the floor with a yelp and a thud. Koslov shut off the television with a sigh.

None of this was good.

...

Hopps relayed instructions to her team as they approached the properties. She'd split her people up, and planned to strike simultaneously. This would not only allow her the element of surprise, but also give her a chance to go in personally, without breaking any rules.

Hart was examining the file as she drove, making the occasional note with a yellow highlighter. As they headed into Tundra Town, he looked over to her.

"Sorry if I was snippy back there at the station." He said. Hopps waved his concerns away.

"No, you were right. I was out of line…you really shouldn't have gotten caught in the crossfire."

Hart nodded slightly. Went back to looking at the file.

They, along with one other car, we're headed for the abandoned grocery store. It hadn't been Hopps' first choice, but Chief had picked it out specifically for her. Probably to keep her out of trouble.

"This is Car One," Hopps' radio crackled, "we've taken up position behind the target. Awaiting further instruction."

"Stay put," Hart responded, "we're on final approach."

Up ahead of them Hoops could see the darkened storefront. Boards covering a shattered plate glass window, the door suspiciously free of locks or bars.

Hopps could see why the courts had granted them a search warrant, the store definitely looked like it had been used for something. And recently.

"Move to the back," Hopps instructed Car One, "we're going in." She nodded at Hart. He flipped on the lights and she rolled the sirens.

Red and blue light flashed off of the snow and Hopps braked, sending the car skidding to a halt.

And just like that they were out and running, stun-guns out. From the back of the store Hopps heard wood splintering, then the flat crack of a flash bang grenade. Jagged splinters of white light slashed out through the boards covering the front of the building.

"Kick down the door." Hopps said impatiently. Hart hesitated.

"They haven't cleared the room yet." He said.

"They just flashed the room," Hopps retorted, chafing for action, "if there's anyone in there then they're on the ground."

Hart sighed. Then raised one foot and smashed the door down. Wood splintered and the door swung open. Hopps had just enough time to hear a click and see Hart's eyes widen, then the world dissolved into white.

She was thrown back like a doll and sent spinning into the snow, ears ringing, senses scrambled.

Her first, confused thought was that Car One had thrown another flash bang. Then she realized...she had just walked right into a trap.

"Hart!" She croaked, forcing herself up onto her paws and knees, vision full of flashing spots, ears ringing, the ground swooping sickeningly under her.

"Hart! Status!" She tried to stand but sagged against the front of the store instead. She thought that she could see something crumpled in the snow ahead of her, but her vision was still too confused...she couldn't tell.

"...Hopps..." The something groaned. Hopps took a shaky step forward and fell to her knees next to Hart.

Behind her she could hear her team clearing the building, rushing for the front door.

Hart's fur had been singed and the front of his vest was pockmarked with sizzling marks and holes. He stared up at Hopps, still dazzled.

"What happened Hopps?" He asked thickly.

"We got flash banged." Hopps laughed nervously, shaking. She took Hart's paw and squeezed it. Hart yelped.

"Stop, stop!" Hopps hurriedly let go and Hart winced, drawing his wounded arm closer to himself, "I landed on my arm...probably broken."

Hopps winced. Looked behind her to where her team was pouring from the front door.

"Hart's hurt," she said, "call an ambulance."

She sat with Hart until it arrived, but he didn't say anything. All the same, Hopps could tell what her second in command wanted to say.

Something like, _you did it again Judy. You've got us into it again._

Hopps shut her eyes. Listened to the sirens approach. Wondered how things could have gone so wrong so suddenly.

...

"You're being sent home for the day." Chief's voice was flat and absolute.

"Home?" Hopps asked in disbelief, wincing as the medic attending to her dabbed a cut on her cheek with iodine, "I can't go home Chief, I have to coordinate transformation results of...of, and I have to see Hart. He's hurt way worse than I am."

"You took a flash-bang to the face Hopps," Chief said flatly, "you're going home. That's final."

"I'm not going until I see Hart." Hopps said stubbornly, folding her arms. She still felt sick and dizzy, her vision half obliterated by whirling nebulae of spots. No doubt she had bruises running all along her left side as well.

"Very well." Chief said, and stepped back, looking over to the scorched doorway of the store. He frowned, glancing back at Hopps.

"I expect a full report from you first thing tomorrow Lieutenant. This is serious, an officer is down."

There was something in his voice that sent a chill down Hopps' spine, but she betrayed no reaction.

"Yes sir." She said.

"Give the Lieutenant a ride to the hospital," Chief said to the ambulance driver, then was walking away, a pair of officers coming to flank him, evidence bags in their hooves.

Hopps shut her eyes and let out a breath. But the feeling within her, gnawing at her guts, didn't go away.

 _You messed up Judy._ It told her.

 _You messed up._


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:**

Sorry about the short length of this chapter, I've been very busy with work lately. Hence why I'm including this note: I'm going to take a little break from writing for a week or two, to focus on work and other things. I'll be back before too long, so see you guys in August!

...

Kim Roan was the first equine mayor of Zootopia, the first woman to hold the office in thirty years, the first mayor to come from the Docks.

But that wasn't what people talked about when she came up in conversation.

It was always about how she'd been Peter Holt's deputy. How she'd served alongside the first predator mayor of Zootopia…and stepped in when he'd fallen.

She was sitting in her office, the shades drawn over the floor to ceiling windows behind her, eyes shut. Silently hating herself and the entire world for being the way it was.

In front of her, lying on the great polished wood desk that dominated the room, was an authorization for emergency powers to the ZPD and similar services. She wasn't sure what to do with it.

Previous mayors had declared emergencies at least once a year, like clockwork. If crime rose, if the predators in Tundra Town or the Docks got restless…

It was a useful tool. A helpful one.

Roan had never liked it.

She'd grown up in the Docks, listening to nightly ZPD raids and seeing the aftermath in the glitter of broken glass and the jagged ruin of splintered doors on her way to school in the light of the next morning.

Not that she'd ever said that on the campaign trail. Or in office.

Holt had taken her aside the one time she suggested advocating for a stricter definition of emergency powers. Told her that disrupting the status quo too sharply was just asking for trouble.

"We've got our principles locked up in here," he'd said gravely, tapping the side of his brown furred head, "our real principles. The ones that matter."

And that had been truer than she'd thought. Certainly Holt had declined to mention many of his to her…before he and Hubble nearly took the city down in a fiery blaze of horror.

She'd liked him back then. Had been overjoyed when he picked her as his deputy. Back then they'd been a long-shot ticket, spoken seriously of by nobody. They hadn't been supposed to win. But clearly the city had had other ideas.

She'd been hopeful back then. So had Holt.

 _What happened to you Peter?_ She asked silently.

Received no answer.

Opening her eyes she stared unhappily down at the authorization form. It looked just like the ones she'd watched Holt sign so very long ago. Just like the one's she'd signed just after the collar ordinances passed…to curb possible anti-predator riots.

She picked up the pen uncertainly.

If she signed it then she would be giving the ZPD additional powers to go after Koslov…and to implement testing on each and every predator who had gotten their collar off thus far.

It was that second part that worried her. Roan believed strongly in the law, but knew all the same that forcing predators to put their collars back on…even if the initial removal had been wrongful, would rankle a lot of predators.

She knew that the protests she'd heard were correct. There _were_ no real provisions for predators with criminal records…those unfortunates would fail the test ninety nine times out of a hundred, even if their record was minor and non-violent.

She'd even said as much to the City Security Council, but they'd ignored her. There was only so far they'd go. Even the collar ordinances had only been passed under duress.

If she signed the authorization then she'd alienate predators. If she didn't then she'd alienate everyone else.

What a choice…

A gentle knock at the door to her office. Roan sighed.

"Come in."

In came her Chief of Staff, a harried looking sheep clutching a pile of folders to his chest.

"There's been some sort of…incident in Tundra Town, an improvised explosive device in a house that the ZPD was raiding."

Roan straightened up in her chair, ears flicking upright.

"Oh no."

"Nobody was killed," her Chief of Staff assured her, "but two officers are injured…the brass is out for blood."

Roan took a deep breath.

Well…that decided it.

She took up the pen again and scratched a hesitant signature onto the authorization form, hating herself more with each letter she wrote.


End file.
